


Darkness

by starshinedown



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen, Wordcount: 100-1.000, episode 3x4 "Beauty and the Beasts"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-16
Updated: 2010-03-16
Packaged: 2017-10-08 00:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starshinedown/pseuds/starshinedown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angel's mind set in episode 3x4 "Beauty and the Beasts." Angel finds his way back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't, alas, own Angel, nor do I own Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Everything is Joss Whedon's, and maybe Mutant Enemy's.
> 
> notes: I found this on my hard drive. The original file date is 1998, so I think I wrote this shortly after the initial airing of "Beauty and the Beasts." I've dusted it off and fixed some old grammar errors and typos, but otherwise left it as is.

**Darkness**

Hunger. Dark, unrelenting, all consuming hunger. The hunger is the control, the drive. It is called by blood. Wonderful, singing blood. Blood and the hunger are all that is important.

A thought comes. “I.” But it means nothing. “I” is nothing recognizable. “I” what? The thought is claimed again by the darkness.

The hunger senses blood, follows it. The blood sings out, a tingling rushes through these veins. So very, very hungry.

Something is wrong. Something comes out of the darkness. A warning. The taking of blood is wrong. But the hunger overrides this. And the thought goes where all thought has gone, back to the darkness. The unforgiving darkness.

\-------

There are two types of creatures. Those that feed the hunger, and those that do not. This one does not…will not. It fights. It hurts. It is making noises, not like the noises made by the beast that attacked last hunt, but softer ones.

For a moment, the darkness recedes, and a thought comes to mind… “I.” What is “I?” Slowly, awareness comes. “I” is “me.” Who I am. Angel, Angelus. Then the stinging pain, and the darkness and the hunger takes over again.

\-------

There it is again. The creature of soft sounds. Soft sounds, and pain. The creature makes no move, and seems to be no threat. It is ignored.

Thoughts again surface. This time the meaning of “I” is more readily grasped. But the memory brings pain more powerful than the hunger. Internal, piercing pain, pain that makes the hunger seem bearable. Physical sensation brings the hunger back. The creature’s blood sings. I disappear into the darkness.

The hunger lunges at the creature, craving its blood. But the hunger is stopped. Chains. The word floats up through the darkness, giving the restriction a name. Chains. The hunger is chained. From somewhere, through the darkness, comes another word. Protect.

Protect?

The hunger is in a fury, but the creature is gone, unharmed. Under the hunger, there is satisfaction, for the taking of blood is wrong.

Darkness flows over all, dimming the hunger, devouring the thoughts. There is nothing.

\------

The dark is pierced by a painful light. Knowledge. Danger. The two are infused with strength. Protect. Again, that word beyond the darkness. “I” return. The danger is calling to me. I must protect. Dimly, I recognize the word. Protect is…to keep danger from….from something. This process of thinking is hard. It hasn’t been done in so very, very long. What is there to protect?

And suddenly, it comes to me. Her. The creature was Her. A name from some distant, painful memory surfaces. Buffy. This triggers something. Buffy is in danger. How I know this, I can not fathom, but I know. I must protect her, at all costs. I rise, and try to go to her, but the chains stop me.

No, nothing will stop me. Repeating her name in my mind like a mantra, I tug at the chains. Buffy. Another lunge away, and I feel the chains weakening. Buffy. Again, and again, I surge towards where I know she is. Finally, I am free. I go to her, her danger. Nothing will harm her. This thought, and this thought alone holds the dark oblivion at bay.

She is there. I can… I can feel her. She is fighting. A beast is attacking her. Rage soars within me. She must not be harmed. I attack the beast. It is strong, but it is no match for my anger, my strength. As the battle rage engulfs me, her name coursing though my mind keeps the darkness and the hunger from consuming me. For a moment, it is all I know. Buffy.

I stop. The beast is dead, the dark void threatens to claim me. I turn to her, drawn there. She calls me. I struggle for control. There is something…

Yes. Control. “Buffy.” I say softly, suddenly desperate. This is it. She is what stays the darkness. I am down on my knees in front of her, holding her, needing her. The darkness returns, claiming everything, all thought, all sense.

But there is a flicker. This time I cling on. I remain.


End file.
